


The Devil's Due

by ohnojustimagine



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Demons, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:27:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24001324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohnojustimagine/pseuds/ohnojustimagine
Summary: AJ finds you after his Wrestlemania match with the Undertaker.
Relationships: A.J. Styles/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 3





	The Devil's Due

You’re been told to expect him, sent to this in-between plane to await him. There’s nothing here, nothing at all; only a smooth, dark blankness, silent and endless, and so you’ve conjured a small circle of light, just to be polite, enough that he’ll be able to find you when he arrives.

And it will be easier, you know, if you don’t show him your true form, so you’ve made yourself appear human; sleek and beautiful with a full-lipped mouth and dark hair, a tight red dress and black heels.

He’s coughing as he stumbles into the light, still spitting up dirt, bent over as he tries to catch his breath, choking on his own freshly-dug grave.

You wait, watching him stand up, panting, wiping the saliva off his mouth with the back of his hand as he stares at you. “Well,” he says, “I’d ask where the _hell_ I am, but I guess I just answered my own question.”

“No.” You smile at him. “That’s not where you are.”

“No?” he asks. “And you’re not…” He frowns. “Well, I always thought the devil was a dude, but you’re…” He looks you up and down, warily curious, his eyes lingering for a moment on your breasts, which are, you will admit, quite magnificent. “You’re definitely _not_ a dude,” he says.

“I’m not,” you reply. “But yeah, the devil is.”

“You know him?”

“I’m familiar with his work.”

“I bet.” He sneers at you, bolder than you’d expect, and _oh_ , you think, because you _like_ this one. “If this isn’t hell, then I’m pretty damn sure it ain’t heaven.”

“No.” You shake your head. “This is somewhere else.”

“Okay, so,” he says, voice firmer now, “what do I need to do to get out of here?”

You laugh, quickly. “That’s a little more complicated.”

“Well then, make it simple, honey, ‘cause I got places I’m supposed to be.”

“We’re all supposed to be somewhere, _honey_.”

“Fine.” He shrugs, and strides off into the darkness. You sigh, because of course he’d want to do this the hard way, but you wait and it feels like barely any time has passed before he’s again standing in front of you. “Huh,” he says. “Wrong way, I guess.” You have to roll your eyes as he sets off in the opposite direction, but he’s soon back, obviously trying not to show his frustration.

“Got me walking in circles, right?” he says, impatience creeping into his tone. “Is that your trick?”

“It’s all circles,” you reply, knowing he won’t understand. “It’s all the same thing, over and over.” And he’s so _simple_ , you think, so very human, all hubris and stupidity, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing, not to you.

“So, why am I here?”

“This is just a place on the way to somewhere else.”

“And how do I move on to that somewhere else?”

You smile, because now you’re beginning to get somewhere. “You give me what I want, and maybe I’ll tell you.”

“Maybe?” he asks.

“If you play nice.”

He shakes his head, folding his arms in front of him. “I don’t like those odds.”

“It’s cute,” you say, “that you think you have a choice.”

“I have a family, they need me.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t be so reckless, should you?” you say, taking a step towards him. “Messing with what you don’t understand, starting fights you can’t win.”

“I could have won,” he tells you, confidence so misplaced it’s almost endearing.

You tilt your head a little, looking at him. “And yet you didn’t.”

He’s silent, as if wordlessly conceding the point, so before he can say anything else, you kiss him, pressing your mouth to his, your tongue licking soft at his firmly closed lips.

“Come on,” you croon, coaxing. “You can do better than that.”

You hear him exhale, short and sharp, and then he opens his mouth to you, reluctant, but it’s all you need, your tongue slipping hot and demanding past his lips. And he tastes like _flesh_ ; skin and sweat and the hint of blood, so _alive_ you want to suck the essence out of him, swallow him down whole, but you sink down onto your knees, unfastening his jeans.

“Do you…” He stifles a gasp as you take out his cock. “Do you _have_ to?”

“Oh no,” you say. “But I’m going to.” You bite your lip as you stare up at him. “If it helps, you can pretend I’m someone else.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna need to.”

“I don’t mind,” you tell him, and it only takes a few firm strokes of your hand before he’s rock hard, ready for you, and it never ceases to amaze you how _easy_ humans are, their desires so straightforward and yet still somehow so fascinatingly complicated.

You suck the head of him into your mouth, tasting salt, swirling your tongue around him until he’s moaning. “Ohhh,” he murmurs. “Holy… holy _fuck_.”

“Shhh,” you say. “Just enjoy it.”

You lick your lips, wetting them as you take him in again, sliding your mouth up and down his shaft, widening your throat enough to let him in deeper, swallowing around him, your tongue working as you try to control the urge to bite down, your teeth almost aching with the need for it.

But you stop yourself, because there are _other_ ways to hurt him, you know, and so just as he’s about to climax, you let the glamor disguising your appearance slip away. He’s not looking at you as he grunts, thrusting into your mouth, seed spilling down your throat.

And then he opens his eyes, looking down, and he _sees_ you, your true face. “Jesus fucking _christ,_ ” he sputters out, recoiling in horror, backing away like he’s been burned.

You smirk, rearranging your features carefully back into something more human and rising to your feet. “No use calling for him _here_.”

“What the hell _are_ you?” he asks, but you don’t answer that.

“I thought you might like to see me,” you say. “I thought it might be something to remember me by.”

“Yeah, I’m not gonna forget that in a hurry, that’s for sure.”

“Good,” you say. He tries to take another step back, but you focus your power, keeping him in place. You hold up one hand, curling your fingers in the air, squeezing around nothingness, and he starts to choke, his throat closing tight. “I want you to remember,” you say, your voice low. “I want you to see that, see _me_ , every time you come.”

You keep the hold for just a second longer, so very tempted to let him pass out, because _oh_ how you’d love to play with him some more, but instead you release him. He gasps for breath, wheezing, but you’re pleased to note that he still has the energy to glare at you. “Maybe you are the devil, lady,” he grits out hoarsely.

“Well, I do have ambitions.”

He mutters something under his breath, and though you hear the words, you choose not to acknowledge them.

“I think we’re done here,” you say.

“That’s it?” he asks, narrowing his eyes, suspicious.

“For now,” you reply.

“So I can leave?”

You nod. “You can leave _here_ , yes.”

“Where do I go?”

“Just start walking,” you say. “You’ll get there.”

“Fine,” he snaps, turning on his heel, striding away with a firm step and you know you won’t see him again.

“Good bye, AJ,” you whisper, softly, but he’s already gone.


End file.
